Summer TV is all L.A.
May 29, 2007
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
If you aren't rich, you stink. That's how TV might make you feel this summer. Turn on the teevee and soon you'll see new L.A.-set shows starring lots of Richie Riches:
There are "John From Cincinnati" (rich kid goes surfing), "Sunset Tan" (upscalers go tanning!), "Californication" (novelist with child) and "Traveler" (rich kids on the lam). Already on: "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" (Hollywood, behind the scenes); "On the Lot" (rich execs auditioning filmmakers), and "The Simple Life" (Paris Hilton and pal).
Hey, TV executives, can you please look some other place than your own pool parties to find protagonists? Like, San Francisco, maybe. Or Portland. New Mexico is pretty. How about New Mexico?
When I watched three shows coming up this week, I realized the settings for all three are ensconced in cash and the Hollywood area. "Starter Wife" is a new miniseries on USA starring Debra Messing, the redhead from "Will & Grace." She plays Molly, a woman who's got it all. Her hubby's a movie bigwig. They raise a kid. La, la, la.
Then he dumps her because, you know, she's getting old or too familiar. That's the problem with wives -- you get to know them too long.
Molly doesn't even seem to love him. She just adored the whole superwoman thing. Boo hoo. Now as an ex-"starter wife," she's rejected by her country club, charity organizations and even a close friend named (I swear) Cricket.
"You too, Cricket?" Molly frowns. That's a reference to Caesar's "Et tu, Brute?" Molly probably relates to Caesar. Like Molly, he had it all, although he went through a midlife crisis she doesn't suffer called "stabbed to death."
We don't see much of Molly's daughter. "Starter Wife" keeps focusing on her deep loss of everything, except she gets to keep her millions and her 117-pound hot bod, and Molly continues to be a dead ringer for very pretty Debra Messing.
The trouble with "Starter Wife" isn't Messing or money. The show just kind of lies there, like the bird poop that fell on our president's face at a press conference the other day. Oh, I mean, his shirt. Sorry. Wishful thinking.
This other new show is "Hidden Palms" on the CW. It's a nighttime soap for kids and adult pervs who can watch and go, "Oh, those boys and girls are hot. Scrrrum!"
"Hidden Palms" begins with the main kid's dad shooting his brains out in front of him. So the main kid (ohmygod I forgot his name, sorry) moves to Palm Springs with his mommy and her new sugar daddy.
Everyone the main kid meets is hot like him, because kids on TV must be smmmokin'. The juveniles are hiding a secret about a dead kid in their circle. Was it murder? Suicide? Autoerotic asphyxiation? I'm not saying.
"Hidden Palms" isn't totally odious. After the bad acting in the initial daddy suicide, the show calms down and holds mild interest for its bikini hotness, cool blue pools and unapologetic stupidity.
But the second episode bogs down in the soapy death mystery and the inability of the main boy and girl to get over their "Dawson's Creek" standoffishness. They do kiss, but she makes him jump through hoops. Why does he let her? Oh right, he's a horny boy.
Also coming up is the season finale of "Entourage." It's a good one. The cast seems invigorated by the latest storylines, tighter one-liners and tauter direction.
If you caught the last "Entourage," you know Vincent was offered $60 million to produce a movie. To get the cash, all Vince had to do was service the moneyman's hot wife (a former "Miss Beautiful") with the moneyman's blessing.
This Sunday, Vince and his buds will tour a booty-bouncing porn set. I mean, it's like 10 minutes of Vince and Eric talking to a director while people carry on naked in the background.
Now, I'm not opposed to wealthy starter wives, dour rich kids in Palm Springs or entourages of actors surrounded by naked shaggers. But really, TV honchos, there's this place called "the rest of America." Give it a try.
BY DOUG ELFMAN Television Critic
If you aren't rich, you stink. That's how TV might make you feel this summer. Turn on the teevee and soon you'll see new L.A.-set shows starring lots of Richie Riches:
There are "John From Cincinnati" (rich kid goes surfing), "Sunset Tan" (upscalers go tanning!), "Californication" (novelist with child) and "Traveler" (rich kids on the lam). Already on: "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" (Hollywood, behind the scenes); "On the Lot" (rich execs auditioning filmmakers), and "The Simple Life" (Paris Hilton and pal).
Hey, TV executives, can you please look some other place than your own pool parties to find protagonists? Like, San Francisco, maybe. Or Portland. New Mexico is pretty. How about New Mexico?
When I watched three shows coming up this week, I realized the settings for all three are ensconced in cash and the Hollywood area. "Starter Wife" is a new miniseries on USA starring Debra Messing, the redhead from "Will & Grace." She plays Molly, a woman who's got it all. Her hubby's a movie bigwig. They raise a kid. La, la, la.
Then he dumps her because, you know, she's getting old or too familiar. That's the problem with wives -- you get to know them too long.
Molly doesn't even seem to love him. She just adored the whole superwoman thing. Boo hoo. Now as an ex-"starter wife," she's rejected by her country club, charity organizations and even a close friend named (I swear) Cricket.
"You too, Cricket?" Molly frowns. That's a reference to Caesar's "Et tu, Brute?" Molly probably relates to Caesar. Like Molly, he had it all, although he went through a midlife crisis she doesn't suffer called "stabbed to death."
We don't see much of Molly's daughter. "Starter Wife" keeps focusing on her deep loss of everything, except she gets to keep her millions and her 117-pound hot bod, and Molly continues to be a dead ringer for very pretty Debra Messing.
The trouble with "Starter Wife" isn't Messing or money. The show just kind of lies there, like the bird poop that fell on our president's face at a press conference the other day. Oh, I mean, his shirt. Sorry. Wishful thinking.
This other new show is "Hidden Palms" on the CW. It's a nighttime soap for kids and adult pervs who can watch and go, "Oh, those boys and girls are hot. Scrrrum!"
"Hidden Palms" begins with the main kid's dad shooting his brains out in front of him. So the main kid (ohmygod I forgot his name, sorry) moves to Palm Springs with his mommy and her new sugar daddy.
Everyone the main kid meets is hot like him, because kids on TV must be smmmokin'. The juveniles are hiding a secret about a dead kid in their circle. Was it murder? Suicide? Autoerotic asphyxiation? I'm not saying.
"Hidden Palms" isn't totally odious. After the bad acting in the initial daddy suicide, the show calms down and holds mild interest for its bikini hotness, cool blue pools and unapologetic stupidity.
But the second episode bogs down in the soapy death mystery and the inability of the main boy and girl to get over their "Dawson's Creek" standoffishness. They do kiss, but she makes him jump through hoops. Why does he let her? Oh right, he's a horny boy.
Also coming up is the season finale of "Entourage." It's a good one. The cast seems invigorated by the latest storylines, tighter one-liners and tauter direction.
If you caught the last "Entourage," you know Vincent was offered $60 million to produce a movie. To get the cash, all Vince had to do was service the moneyman's hot wife (a former "Miss Beautiful") with the moneyman's blessing.
This Sunday, Vince and his buds will tour a booty-bouncing porn set. I mean, it's like 10 minutes of Vince and Eric talking to a director while people carry on naked in the background.
Now, I'm not opposed to wealthy starter wives, dour rich kids in Palm Springs or entourages of actors surrounded by naked shaggers. But really, TV honchos, there's this place called "the rest of America." Give it a try.
Comments